


Brings Me To The Constellations

by orphan_account



Series: Hope A Little Less [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Cutting, Heavy Angst, M/M, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 05:49:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11845230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Keith carefully moved up to his abdomen, pressing the knife down and slicing downwards, on a diagonal. Then, back up, making an acute angle. Then down, across, back… he finished the short slices, connecting back to where he’d started.A small, bloody star.





	Brings Me To The Constellations

**Author's Note:**

> wow so because I realized I wasn't going to update or write a consistent story for https://archiveofourown.org/works/11381727 <\--- this fic I decided I'd just make a series for my drabbles on the topic ??
> 
> So yeah, head over there and read that bit first, this will probably just be a series of angsty drabbles ??

Keith woke up with more scars, this time spread across his hips. It was late, but the sting of new hurt had woken him.

 

He uncapped a pen, which he'd left next to his bed after last time. He hardly opened his eyes to scribble out. 

 

_ Stop it _

 

_ why _

 

He had to get up and turn on his light to see what Lance had written, vision flashing at the sudden change in lighting. He rubbed his eyes, glaring at the clock that sat on his desk. 2:47 AM. Great. 

 

_ because it fucking hurts and I want to sleep  _

 

His writing was sloppy, and angry.

 

_ Sorry _ . 

 

That was all the response he got, so he groaned and flicked the lights back out, placing the pen within arm's reach in case he needed to tell his soulmate to stop keeping him up again. 

 

He pulled his covers up to his chin, rolling over and staring at the wall, and trying to ignore the faint, residual humming on his skin. 

 

He couldn't help but wonder what Lance was doing, now that he'd stopped cutting. Not that he had any reason to care, really. 

 

As long as he wasn't transmitting anything onto Keith's skin, he was happy. 

 

It didn't take long for him to drift off again, snuggling aching skin between plush cushions and closing eyes that were still crusted with sleep.

 

.

 

Waking up was more a nightmare than anything Keith’s subconscious could’ve dreamt up for him. First of all, he was tired as the dead and his skin was hurting like hell. He wasn’t used to so many frequent transmissions from Lance, and he was paying with it when his flesh tingled angrily at every new mark. 

 

_ you okay? _

 

He didn’t really know why he bothered to check in. He was probably just really tired of being woken up by concerning marks trailing down his body. 

 

_ no, wbu?  _ He almost laughed at that, humorless as it was. God. 

 

_ pretty bad if im honest  _

 

_ cool cool _

 

Then they both went about their days, not responding to each other any further. He found himself closing his eyes a little too long on his blinks. Inhaling a little too deeply, letting his gaze find the ceiling and his eyelids fall dormant. A fuzzy blur of a day, a clock that seems to take forever to move forward, until it suddenly has and the whole day was gone.

 

That night, he ditched the scissors, forgot about the secondhand pain, and made something of his own. Lance’s treat, on the house. He got a knife this time. It was supposed to be a throwing knife, slender and diamond-shaped, but any blade would do, really. 

 

He smiled smally, pressing it into my hip bone and forming a small, bloody heart shape. Then, he picked up his pen.

 

_ so you don’t have to tonight  _ He wrote in tiny handwriting, beside his marred skin. A tear prickled at the corner of his eye when he saw a small, exhausted word beneath it

 

_ thanks _

 

He pressed his knife back into his hip bone, giving a couple more good slices for good measure. Though Lance didn’t respond any further, he knew that he was there. Well, he’s always there. But, he could picture him then, vividly. Watching as the markings,  _ his doing,  _ appeared. It was intimacy that he’d never felt before. That he’d never imagined ever feeling, with anyone. 

 

Keith carefully moved up to his abdomen, pressing the knife down and slicing downwards, on a diagonal. Then, back up, making an acute angle. Then down, across, back… he finished the short slices, connecting back to where he’d started. 

 

A small, bloody star. Then, he paused. 

 

_ what's your birthday _

 

He scribbled the question on his thigh, and the response was almost immediate. 

 

_ Jul wait why are you asking _

 

_ Just tell me, you'll see in a minute _

 

_ July 28 _

 

A quick google search later, Keith resumed with cutting stars into his stomach, until finally a constellation was formed.

 

_!! leo  _

 

I smiled softly at the words. 

 

_ goodnight lance _

 

_ night _

 

**Author's Note:**

> if u leave a comment i will be forever in ur debt tbhhh


End file.
